


Guzmania

by toxicbolts



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Fluff, Multi, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicbolts/pseuds/toxicbolts
Summary: If he wasn’t so enamoured with the guy, Guzma would have seen the hints of something being fishy about the owner of the flower shop a long time ago.





	Guzmania

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clefaiiiry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clefaiiiry/gifts).



If he wasn’t so enamoured with the guy, Guzma would have seen the hints of something being fishy about the owner of the flower shop a long time ago.

Can anyone blame him, though? He looks goddamn adorable, gracile fingers fixing a bouquet, putting a sky blue ribbon on it with care.

“That ended up well, master Cyrus.” a young man says, one of the many people who work at Cyrus’ shop. Cyrus seems pleased, himself, a half smile making his permanently tired expression a little less stern.

“I am aware. But thank you, Saturn.”

Cyrus is definitely not good at taking compliments, but he is trying. Saturn definitely looks pleased, and Guzma takes another sip from his hot Tapu Cocoa. It tastes like heaven incarnate. 

Everyone seems to love Cyrus, strangely given the circumstances. Plumeria says that he is a weirdo, and she is probably right, but Guzma is, too. Plumeria wholeheartedly agrees.

“Why are you here, Guzma? Isn’t your business open?” Cyrus asks, and Guzma grins a little, his upper lip a little stained with the cocoa.

But before he can answer, one of the girls who works for Cyrus, Jupiter, appears out of nowhere, eyeing him like she’s evaluating a possible threat.

“Do you want me to kick him out, master Cyrus?”

The other girl, Mars, comes to the rescue, taking her girlfriend’s arm in a flash, her vibrant smile lighting up the whole place.

“Don’t be like that, hun. Guzma is cool, alright? Nothing to be worried about.”

“But I’m not worried…”

Cyrus rolls his eyes a little, writing something on a list that is probably full of many more tasks to fulfill. But Guzma still hasn’t answered, and he feels like he has to.

“Plums is taking care of the parlor right now. I was not busy, so I came here to visit.”

Cyrus looks up from the paper, and Guzma feels like he’s being judged yet again.

“She works for you, doesn’t she? It’s not fair to leave her alone.”

Oh, so that was it. His duty as a boss. Of course Cyrus would care about that, given how his employees seem to revolve around him as if he was the Sun and…

Wait a moment. Wait a motherfucking moment. Why is everyone named like planets and stuff? Are they nicknames? Codenames? Guzma is sweating a little. Given how much Cyrus seems to love his own name, always signing with a special pen, taking time and care to write it; it is indeed his real name. But the others seem to use names like they use yet another piece of cloth.

“She is way more competent than I am… I don’t know why she refuses to be my boss” Guzma replies, his voice low and cautious, but he’ still telling the truth.

Cyrus smiles a little, only a little, and Arceus be damned, it’s so cute he almost forgets his train of thoughts.

He has to ask, or curiosity will kill him. But he has to be cautious about it. Be casual, Guzma.

“So, what did you used to work as before you opened this shop? You’re not Alolan, right.”

Inconspicuous. 

Cyrus is definitely staring at him, trying to discern his motivations. It’s not a hostile stance, like Jupiter’s, but it is indeed wary. Finally, Cyrus’ eyes relax, and he leaves his pen, and his ridiculously long list.

“We are from Sinnoh. And about what I used to do before th-”

“We could be ruling the world, and we are here, taking care and selling flowers! Arceus fuck.” that voice is Charon’s, way too old to be working there anyways, but none of the other members of the shop even flinch at his outburst. Jupiter just sighs, and mutters that he’s going to prepare a lime infusion for the grandpa.

Guzma laughs a little dryly.

“He is senile, right?” he asks, voice shaking a little, not convinced in the slightest when Cyrus mutters a very quiet “yes”, a little absent-mindedly.

“Still, you didn’t answer, Guzma. I was asking for your motivations for coming to this shop. Do you like it?”

Damn, that’s definitely a dick move. Using a previously unanswered question to divert his attention? Damn, the guy is evasive.

“Of… of course I do. My name’s flower related, and so is Plum’s.” he takes a breath, gathering the courage to deal with his stupid crush. “And it’s nice to look at your work.”

Cyrus looks… actually pleased. Almost happy.

“So that’s it…” Cyrus says, fingers relaxed against his desk. Guzma takes another sip from his cocoa, his nerves settling a little bit. “You’re actually a good person, Guzma.”

And he is coughing, trying not to spill his drink, and for it not ending up going out of his nose or something. That would be gross.

“Ex… Excuse me?”

Cyrus snorts a little, but says nothing about his reaction.

“To answer your question, I am not proud of what I used to do back in Sinnoh.” Cyrus starts, carefully choosing his words, but trusting Guzma enough to at least speak about it. “A friend gave me another opportunity, and here I am. I dislike the heat, but I can tell that Alola is special.”

Guzma can totally relate to the “I used to be a fucking asshole but someone gave me an opportunity and I intend to use it” thing, so he lets it slide. Maybe Cyrus will tell him when he feels more comfortable. Not that Guzma has told him about his own past, even if it’s not exactly a secret. Alola is not a big region, after all.

“Special? How so?”

“Warm. People are more distant in Sinnoh. Living more in their own heads, and less with everyone else. Not that I don’t understand why.”

“Cultural differences are not bad, you know.”

“I know.” Cyrus looks down, and gets up from his chair. Guzma is still sitting in front of him, and realises that maybe it’s time to go. Plumeria is going to metaphorically kick his balls. Even if he is the one who covers her when she’s busy trying to flirt with the owner of the jewelry shop, so it’s only fair, right. No balls being kicked today, not even metaphorically.

So he gets up, too, and finishes his drink, carefully putting the chair in place.

“Been a real pleasure, but I’m not robbing you more of your time, gotta work and stuff. Call me if you want a badass tattoo, or something. I freaking love tattooing skulls and stuff.”

“Wait, please.”

He looks at Cyrus, perplexed, and the man quickly moves to what he supposes it’s the storage. So he waits for a minute or two, terribly missing his Tapu Cocoa already. Truly a beverage from the gods.

When Cyrus comes back, it’s with a flower pot, full of red flowers that Guzma recognizes instantly.

“Are you shitting me right now…” he asks to himself, laughing a little because it’s such a cute detail.

“Please accept them.” Cyrus says, but it almost sounds like an order. And Guzma cannot help but surrendering. “Do you like them?”

“Of course I do. They’re guzmanias. That’s my name, dude.”

Cyrus smiles a little, a little bashful, and Guzma really wants to kiss those stupid lips.

“Yes, red guzmanias.” Cyrus says, as if insisting about something.

“That’s neat, because I fucking love red.”

Cyrus is definitely rolling his eyes a little, and sighing, but he offers him the pot, a little more enthusiastically.

“It’s just. What am I going to do with my mug? I need both hands to move the flowers.”

Cyrus is definitely blushing a little.

“You could leave it here, and come back for it, later. If you don’t mind.”

And shit, Guzma may not be the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but even he is getting the hint. He leaves his mug on Cyrus’ desk, and carefully takes the plant from his hand, fingers touching for a second, almost tenderly.

Guzma is smiling like a fucking fool, and his smile is still on his face even when he goes back to his parlor, Plumeria rolling her eyes at his stupid ass expression.

“Okay, I think that’s definitely more than a crush.”

And of course, Plumeria is always right.

**Author's Note:**

> Red guzmanias mean "fiery love", by the way. Cyrus is totally trying to send a message there, but Guzma is like "hahaha I like red". Cyrus is a morosexual.


End file.
